Volume 2: Ruby Inferno

Light has sparked the dawn, but fire forges the path ahead. From the ashes of the past rises a crimson gem, pulsing with the fury of passion and destruction. This is the tale of the second chosen, a man scarred by guilt, and a war that grows fiercer with each flame. Welcome to Ruby Inferno.

Chapter 1: Ashes of the Past

Chicago, Illinois, March 20, 2025—three days after the events in Boston. The wind sliced through the city’s West Side, rattling the windows of a dilapidated boxing gym tucked between crumbling brick buildings. Inside, the rhythmic thud of fists against a heavy bag echoed in the dimly lit space. Marcus Kane, 32, stood alone on the cracked concrete floor, his bandaged hands slick with sweat, his scarred face a map of battles fought and lost. His dark brown eyes burned with a quiet intensity, shadowed by a pain he rarely spoke of.

Once a rising star in the underground boxing scene, known as “Iron Flame” for his relentless ferocity, Marcus had it all—until a fateful night five years ago. In a brutal match, his final punch landed too hard, killing his opponent. The crowd’s cheers turned to screams, and the boxing commission banned him for life. Now, he scraped by teaching street kids to throw punches and taking on illegal fights, drowning his guilt in the rhythm of his fists.

Tonight, the last of his students—a scrappy teen named Joey—had shuffled out, leaving Marcus alone with the creaking gym. He hammered the bag until his knuckles bled through the bandages, trying to silence the echoes of that fatal night. Exhausted, he slumped onto a bench, wiping sweat from his brow, when a faint clatter drew his gaze. From beneath a pile of dusty gear, a ruby rolled into view—deep red, glowing like a ember plucked from a fire.

“What the…” Marcus muttered, picking it up. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a searing heat surged through him—not painful, but alive, electric. Instinctively, he dropped it, but too late. Flames erupted from his hands, wild and crimson, engulfing the heavy bag in a roaring blaze. “No!” he shouted, stumbling back as the gym filled with smoke. “Stop—damn it, stop!” The fire obeyed, vanishing as suddenly as it appeared, leaving the bag a smoldering ruin and the air thick with the stench of charred leather…